Five

M y body cradles Ashley’s against the floor. All the commotion behind us fades away as I revel in the fact that I’m holding her again.

“You okay?” I whisper, taking advantage of our proximity to inhale her scent. The perfume may be different, but the hint of Ashley underneath it floods my senses with the purest nostalgia.

Her plump lips part slightly, throat bobbing before she lets out a breathy, “Yes.”

Her blue eyes shine back at me with a mix of emotions while the brown and blonde strands of her hair fall around her shoulders, causing memories of her lying just like this beneath me to flood through my mind. She’s still the most precious, most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. The pictures over the last three years and sightings from a distance could never compare to this.

When I saw her for the first time earlier tonight, I swear my central nervous system went through a neurogenic shock. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I had to tell myself to breathe. The moment she spoke to me, hearing her voice again after so long clogged my throat with emotion. Tears welled in my eyes before I could get my shit together. No practice could have prepared me for the first contact with the woman I love after over one thousand days without her.

“Trent, get the fuck up before you give yourself away.” Micah’s voice cuts through the trance we’ve both found ourselves in. “Go help your brother with this gunshot wound,” he says, tugging on my shoulder, ushering me to get up.

“Fuck,” I hiss, standing and pulling Ashley to her feet. I look over and see my brother making demands and holding pressure on Giovanni’s right-hand man’s upper chest.

“Was anyone else shot?” Ashley asks her brother, and I hear the slight hint of hope in her question. Did she want it to be Junior as badly as I did?

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. She may truly be in love with him.

“Just Vito. Some glass shards from the front window cut into Junior’s upper arm, but nothing life-threatening.”

I look back at Ashley, and that’s when I realize her hand is still in mine. I need to go help Trevor, but I don’t want this moment with her to end.

Her brother does it for us, breaking our hands apart and nodding in my brother’s direction. “Don’t be fucking stupid. Go help Trevor. I got her.”

My eyes meet Ashley’s questioning ones. Surprisingly, after her cold demeanor toward me earlier in the night, she takes a step toward me, and the bullet in my gun with her husband’s name on it screams to end this. To end him .

With the movement, Ashley winces, and Micah helps steady her.

Concern etches on my face, chest tightening. “What’s wrong?”

She looks behind me, and her gaze turns stone cold. “I’m fine. I tweaked my ankle slightly when we went down.”

“Let me look,” I say and take note of the way Micah glares at the side of my head, at the same time Ashley holds her hand up to stop me in my tracks.

“No, thank you for your kindness, sir. I’ll be okay from here,” she says politely, passing me off like the stranger I’m supposed to be. Her dismissal hurts, but even after all this time, I can read her, and I know she did that more for me than her. He must be close.

Before I turn around to see, I hear my brother call my name. “Trent, I need you. Go get my kit.” I walk over to him, not feeling the urgency I typically would for a patient—because, fuck all of them—but I know this is our way in.

“We need to get out of here,” Junior barks, furiously making phone calls and demands to his other guys.

“We can remove the bullet,” Trevor tries to tell him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Junior asks with a bite, speaking in my brother’s direction.

“The doctor about to save your guy,” Trevor answers nonchalantly.

Micah walks up to Junior’s side. “I know them. I’ve used them in a few instances when your father was boss. They will sign an NDA. I’ve never had any issues.” I try to glance back inconspicuously to make sure Ashley is okay now that Micah has left her side. Her guard stands at attention beside where she’s sitting on a bench in the lobby, staring off with a blank look on her face. It fucking kills me to see her light fading as time goes on, and as much as I want to go with her, I know I have to see this through.

“I’m trying to get Dr. M’s backup on the phone. That motherfucker picked the worst time to leave the country.”

Junior’s words let us know everything seems to be going as planned. His frustration is palpable.

“We don’t have time for that. We either do this here, or we move somewhere close as soon as possible if you want your friend to live,” Trevor says.

“We can’t stay here… We would be sitting ducks. Do you have what you need on you?”

“In our trunk,” Trevor says over his shoulder, focusing his attention on the man lying in his own puddle of blood.

Junior looks at us curiously, and I speak up. “As Micah said, we do this for many people of prestige, so we are always prepared and discreet.”

With narrowed eyes, he nods. Still hesitant. “Then you’ll come with us,” he says to Trevor before directing his attention to me. “And you can follow in the car with your shit.”

I loathe taking orders from this man, but it's a must if I want to be closer to Ashley.

“He’s stable and sleeping,” Trevor says as we enter the den that Junior and his men are waiting in.

Being in this fucking house is a form of torture. It's like my own personal hell knowing this is her home with him.

“So, he’s in the clear?” Junior asks .

“As long as he doesn’t get an infection,” Trevor responds, and I pass Micah a bottle of antibiotics.

“We gave him a dose of vancomycin through the IV to get some antibiotics in his system, but he should be good with the oral tablets for the next ten days,” I explain.

“When will your doctor be back?” Trevor asks.

Junior looks at his phone. “Two more weeks.”

“Okay, well, give us a call if any issues or concerns arise,” Trevor says, passing Junior his card.

He nods in response and, apparently, the prick doesn’t have the words “thank you” in his vocabulary.

“Can someone check Ashley’s ankle? It’s swollen and already bruising,” Micah interjects, since her husband doesn’t seem to care at all. I know he saw her limping and her brother helping her walk into the house, but he still said nothing.

Play it cool . I keep repeating that in my head to keep my expression neutral. I’ll give myself away if I jump to go to her, but thankfully my brother knows the score.

Trevor nods to Junior. “Don’t you have some cuts? I can clean you up and Trent can assess your wife’s ankle.”

Hearing my brother refer to her as Junior’s wife has bile rising in my throat. Play it cool.

“Luca, show him to my wife.”

My wife. Not for much longer, motherfucker.

I follow Luca upstairs. The anticipation of seeing her is almost just as overwhelming as it was earlier tonight.

“She’s sitting in her sewing room area. Micah had her prop the ankle up and put some ice on it. ”

“Okay, good,” I say, just as he opens the door to a light pink room full of sewing machines, fabrics, and sketches. In the center is my heart and soul in five-foot-two of human perfection.

“You can wait outside,” I tell Luca, and he gives me that familiar gentle smile.

“Beware of her guard dog.” He smirks before closing the door.

At that exact moment, I’m greeted by the miniature horse himself.

Hey, boy, long time no see.

“What are you doing in here, Trent?” Ashley’s brow furrows as she sits up from her spot on the velvet couch she’s lying on.

“Hello, Ashley. I’m in school to be a doctor, and I’m here to assess your ankle.”

She narrows her eyes at me as her dog rubs his head against my thigh. Knowing what he’s after, I scratch behind his ears.

“What the hell, Nori?” She scoffs, an incredulous look on her face. “He’s never like that with men, especially ones he doesn’t know.”

She named him Nori . Micah left that detail out.

“Nice name.” I walk over and sit on the footstool in front of her couch. Ashley chooses to ignore my comment about her dog being named after the place where we fell in love.

As I pick up the ice, Nori sniffs me, checking out what I’m doing to his mom.

“The swelling is already coming down, but you have a nasty bruise. ”

“Yeah, it didn’t feel as bad when I put weight on it a few minutes ago,” she says, her tone one of reluctance. There are so many questions swirling in her gaze, but she’s settling on staying angry.

“Why are you walking around? You are supposed to be resting.” I give her a stern look, which she rolls her eyes at.

“I was bored, so I got up to get this.” She holds her sketchbook up to me. “And who do you think you are, coming in here and telling me what to do? I have enough men in my life doing that. I don’t need the one who abandoned me doing it too.”

Her words hit me like a stab to the chest, but I table that comment for the time being.

“This room suits you,” I say, looking around, taking in all the small details.

Ashley smiles briefly before bringing her attention back to me, her pinched expression returning. “Can you just check my ankle out?”

She thinks I abandoned her.

“Can you press your foot into my hand, like you are pressing the gas pedal?” She does as I ask.

“Good. Now resist me and pull your toes toward your nose.” She does easily. “Okay, move it from side to side as best you can.”

She tolerates all the movements well, and her strength isn’t indicative of a break in the bone.

My eyes trail up her exposed legs, and I imagine tracing my tongue over every inch. There’s little I wouldn’t do to taste her again, to hold her. Focus, Trent. Her blue orbs burn into mine, studying me as I speak .

“ You have good strength, and the fact the swelling is going down, it’s likely you have a bad sprain. The only way to truly know is to have an X-ray. I’m sure Trevor could get you in somewhere locally.”

She shakes her head. “Can’t I just see how it looks tomorrow, after some rest and ice? I’ve hurt it before in high school, and after a few days, it was totally fine.”

“If that’s what you prefer,” I respond with a nod. When I look up again, I notice her eyes flitting to the small piece of burned skin you can barely see where my sleeve is pushed up slightly.

Her beautifully sad and confused eyes meet mine, and we stare at each other for seconds, maybe minutes. I want to drown in them, in her.

“Trent, what are you doing here?” she asks bluntly, breaking the spell.

“Are you happy?” I ask instead of answering, even though I know the answer. I could see it the minute I looked at her tonight. I’ve heard she’s okay and has everything she could ever want, but I call bullshit.

Complete fucking bullshit.

With a huff, she sits up more, putting her good foot on the ground, and I know if she wasn’t hurting right now, she would move as far away from me as possible.

“You don’t get to come in here after three years and ask me that, Trent,”she sneers, and I reach for her, but she smacks my hand away.

“Don’t touch me. Where have you been?” She pauses briefly, her voice breaking. “You have no idea how worried I was about you, and then to hear you moved to Europe without even telling me. Never reached out. You left me to wonder why you wouldn’t speak to me. I’ve driven myself crazy for years about it. And let's not even discuss the fact you’ve been back for two months, and now, the first time I see you, you’re working with your brother. Doing whatever fucked-up shit he’s involved in.”

“Ashley, please let me explain,” I rush to say, heart in my throat. I need her to listen to me.

“I don’t know if you can explain your way out of all this. It’s too much… It’s been too long.” Dejection is written all over her pretty face.

“Don’t say that. It could never be too long when it comes to us.”

Ashley turns her head, not looking at me anymore, and her words come out as a whisper. “What are you saying?”

Four taps on the door interrupt us. Fuck, this wasn’t long enough.

Blowing out a breath, I stand up, knowing the door will open any minute.

“Meet me at Luxure in SoHo on Friday. I know it's not The W like old times, but I think you’ll really like it. I promise I’ll explain everything.” We had so many great Friday nights at The W in Manhattan, but it also holds the memory of the time I had to walk away. I want somewhere fresh, somewhere that hasn’t witnessed the pain of our past.

“I don’t know, Trent.” Her lack of conviction has me feeling hopeful.

The door opens, and I hear footsteps in the distance.

Staring at her for another moment, I help prop her foot back up with the ice. "I just want to talk, please. The room will be under my name.”

Micah and Joey enter the room before she can deny me again, Trevor not too far behind. Her piece of shit husband can’t even come check on her. I don’t miss the way Nori stands to attention, his ears back and his eyes zoned in on Joey.

I don’t like that at all. Not one fucking bit.

“It’s looking like apossible sprain. She understands to ice it on and off for the next twenty-four hours. I would give her ibuprofen for the swelling and pain. And it's best for her to stay off it. We can have some crutches sent over tonight,” I say, directing my words toward her brother.

“Does she need an X-ray?” Trevor asks.

“She wants to see how it is tomorrow.”

“Okay, well, have Micah call us if you don’t improve,” Trevor says, and Ashley nods.

“The vancomycin should be finished going in his IV. Let's flush it and check on him before we head out,” Trevor tells me, referring to Vito.

I look back at Ashley one last time before walking out. Literal pain shoots through my body as I make my feet move away from her.

Verifying no one is paying attention, I mouth Friday to her.

Ashley doesn’t acknowledge me. She just stares, almost as if she’s looking through me.

I hate myself for the shell she has become.